More than anything else...

Today was Mother's Day.


I was asked earlier in the week what I wanted for Mother's Day and I couldn't answer because I had no idea.

Turns out what I wanted was the sweaty head and flushed cheek of a little boy with a tummy-ache, pressed against my neck as I swayed and sang like I used to do all the time, but not so much anymore.

And I wanted dirty superman socks with a little boys feet in them to wiggle in between my knees as I lay on the couch.

And I wanted a scrape on my thumb from rock hunting with a little boy who forgot to watch where he threw the big BIG rocks that he had found, and who still felt very sorry even at bedtime.

And I wanted tired arms from dancing with a little boy and not being able to put him down even for a minute until all the songs we picked were over.

And I wanted wet jeans from a little boy who had just gotten out of the tub and who didn't want to wait until I had wrapped the towel all the way around him before he sat on my lap.

And I wanted two wet and spitty fingers to touch my chin because a little boy who still sucks on them (despite trying really, really hard not to) couldn't see my face in the dark to give me a goodnight kiss.

I got everything I wanted today.

Inhale.

It has been raining all day.

The roads are shiny and so are the roofs of the cars parked on my street.
The grass squeaks when you walk on it.

And I can breathe.

My green rubber boots are standing tall by the door and they promise to keep my feet warm and dry if only I will go for a really long walk.

The rain makes me want to cook properly and not just heat things up...so that my whole house smells like dinner and the kitchen is warmer than anywhere else.

The very best dressed ladies at the mall have to hike up their designer pants and jump over the puddles in the parking lot, and do the same awkward tip-toe and hop that the rest of us have to do to get inside.
And the ones who are wearing the most makeup are trying the hardest not to get ANY rain on their faces because it will make their mascara smear and run.

My hair is curly and unruly despite my efforts to be smooth and polished and sophisticated.

I think that the rain does as good a job at washing away pretense as it does anything else.

And I can breathe.